He’d shown up with little one-year-old Chloe one day and had never left. Chloe’s mother, Shannon, had died in some tragic way—the most common theories were either a car crash or an accidental drowning—and Frank’s heart seemed to have shut itself off from loving anyone again. Other than being a devoted father to his daughter, of course.
While he’d clearly folded himself into Edgehill easily, his personal life had been a subject of conversation in town for years. Even Amber, who had helped him out while she was in high school, babysitting the always well-behaved Chloe, had never learned much about the Deidricks’ past. Chloe seemed happily clueless about it, and Frank had always skirted the subject with the agility of a politician. Amber had wondered if his dirty laundry might get aired during his election campaign, but nasty Victor Newland hadn’t uncovered anything before he mysteriously dropped out. Nothing of note had ever surfaced about Frank, and Amber liked to believe that was because there had been nothing for anyone to find.
“Ready?” Kim chirped from the driver’s seat.
Amber nodded, emerging from her ever-bouncing thoughts, and the two climbed out of the car. They walked up the short brick path to the door, either side lined with neatly tended grass. Glancing up, Amber met the semi-interested gaze of the tabby watching them from his perch on the second story’s railing.
“I’m so nervous,” Kim muttered, smoothing down her already-smooth brown hair that hung around her shoulders in wide waves.
“You’ll be great,” Amber assured her. “Mel would be proud.”
Kimberly stopped walking abruptly, hand to her chest, eyes welled with tears. “Do you really think so?”
Amber faced her, taking Kim’s free hand in hers. “Absolutely. You’ve made the best of a horrible situation. She loved this festival and she would be grateful that you’ve been working your butt off to make sure it runs as smoothly as possible. I mean … John Huntley might grace one of the Here and Meow stages? Mel would be ecstatic.”
Kim nodded, doing her best to get her emotions under control before she actually started crying. She took a fortifying breath and gave Amber’s hand a squeeze. “She’d be proud of you too, you know. Melanie was a fighter and so are you. Life might be kooky right now, but you’ve got people around you who love you and are here for you, okay? We’ll get through this together.”
Amber fought her own sudden flood of emotion, surprised at how suddenly it worked its way up her throat and burned her eyes. “Together,” she agreed, giving Kim’s hand one more squeeze.
They walked the rest of the way to the mayor’s front door and Kim gave the black door a quick series of confident knocks. It was pulled open seconds later by the mayor himself, a bright smile on his face.
“Welcome, ladies!” he said, ushering them inside with a grand gesture. “Come on in.”
As Amber stepped in after Kimberly, following the sound of happily chatting voices and laughter somewhere deeper in the house, Amber wondered how truly together she and Kim—she and anyone—could ever really be.
Chapter 2
The mayor gave them instructions on how to find the rest of the committee, then excused himself and ducked down a hallway. They didn’t need directions; it had been easy to find, thanks to an uproarious guffaw from Nathan. When Whitney Sadler and Susie Paulson had been on the committee, Nathan had been practically mute. He was a nice stay-at-home dad who was always exceedingly willing to help out the committee in any way needed, but he’d done so quietly. Now, it seemed, the reason why he’d been so quiet had been more about the company and less about his personality. He had a goofy, braying laugh that always made Ann Marie snort, which in turn got Chloe giggling.
Amber supposed they all had sensed something about Whitney and Susie was off, even if they hadn’t been fully conscious of it. Any person willing to plan the slow poisoning of another—regardless of the reason—was a psychopath.
If they had only sensed this about the pair sooner, Melanie might still have been here. She’d be giggling alongside Chloe at Nathan’s ridiculous laugh.
One of the few positive things that had come out of all this was that Ann Marie had become the head of volunteer services when Susie Paulson was removed, and then Chloe had joined as Ann Marie’s assistant. Amber hadn’t seen Chloe once she no longer needed a babysitter; she was happy she was able to spend more time with the girl now.
“Oh, hey, ladies!” Ann Marie said, waving from her spot beside a table laden with snacks.
Kimberly squealed and met Ann Marie halfway across the room, hugging her tightly. They were both brunettes, the same height, and had similarly bubbly personalities. Amber was fairly certain the pair had seen each other a couple days ago, yet they greeted as if it had been months.
When they disengaged, Ann Marie smiled warmly at Amber. “Hey. How you holding up? Do the police have any leads on who vandalized Edgar’s place?”
Nathan, Kimberly, and Chloe all turned to her, expressions curious.
Chief Owen Brown knew the vandals in question were fictional, since he had been aware of Amber’s secret for a while now, but no one else did. She still wasn’t sure how he felt about all of this, but he hadn’t run into the Edgehill Gazette office yet, telling any reporter there who would listen that they had a witch in their midst.
The truth was, it had been one vandal, and by vandal, she meant a cursed Penhallow witch.
“Nope,” Amber said, offering a bewildered sigh. “The chief thinks it might have been some kind of gang initiation. I mean, hardly anyone goes out to that part of town, and most kids are scared of the place, so he doubts it was actually locals.”
Ann Marie had a hand to her chest. “A gang. Goodness. We don’t have gangs in Edgehill.”
“I bet it was kids from the town that shall not be named,” Chloe offered.
“Of course it was!” Ann Marie said.
Nathan lowered his voice a fraction and voiced something truly upsetting. “I had to go into Marbleglen last week to check their flower stock since the ones we need for the centerpieces for the gala might not be available in time.”
Ann Marie shuddered, then placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. There was no other choice.”
Nathan nodded solemnly. “The name of the shop I went into was called Garden Variety.”
“That’s not even clever!” Ann Marie said. “Ugh, that Marbleglen.”
The group at large sneered at the name of Edgehill’s rival town.
After a short bout of silence, Kim clapped her hands once and dispelled the tension. “Well!” she chirped. “Let’s take a few minutes to grab some snacks and use the facilities if necessary and then we can get started, hmm?” She looked around the room. “Chloe, hon, is your dad around?”
Before Chloe could reply, the crisp, clear voice of the mayor sounded as he walked into the dining area. “Sorry, everyone. Had to take a quick call.” He slipped his cell into the front pocket of his button-up shirt and smiled at the small group assembled.
Mayor Deidrick wasn’t handsome in the classical sense: he was of average height, had brown eyes, neatly cut brown hair streaked lightly with gray, and sported a few extra pounds in the middle. Amber thought her own father might have looked something like the mayor had he reached the same age. But what the mayor didn’t have in dashing good looks, he made up for with that X factor of politicians. Whether it was the way he carried himself, his thousand-watt smile, or his charming personality, Amber couldn’t be sure. She supposed it was all those things. In the wrong person, Frank Deidrick’s collection of attributes might come off as smarmy or overbearing—like a salesperson confidently convincing you to purchase something you both know you don’t need. But in the mayor, it resulted in an affable man who smiled easily and listened with great attention.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
Kim beamed at him. “Nothing yet, sir! We’re going to get started in just a few minutes.”
He playfully wagged a finger at Kim. “Now, what did I tell you abo
ut calling me sir, Miss Jones?”
Kim giggled. “Sorry … Frank.”
Grinning, he said, “That’s better.” His daughter stood nearby, and the mayor slung an arm over her shoulder. Chloe was a few inches shorter than him and tipped her head back to offer him a grin of her own. “You all right, kiddo?” he asked softly.
Chloe’s smile faltered a little and she nodded, looking away. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”
He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Promise?”
“Yeah,” she said.
He squeezed again and gave her a little shake. “Promise, promise?”
Chloe tried not to smile, but her efforts were in vain. “Yes, Dad. Geez.”
Frank kissed her temple and then unhanded her quickly, seemingly anticipating how much Chloe would be embarrassed by the affectionate gesture in a room full of people. The girl, who had lighter hair and eyes than her father, turned beet red.
“Dad,” she hissed.
Unfazed, he rounded the oblong wooden dining table that could easily seat ten and took a seat in the middle. Chloe semi-glared at her father and sat across from him.
Amber’s magic was calmer here inside than it had been in the car, but she still felt jittery, so she opted to skip the snacks and took a seat beside Chloe. She did her best to ignore the mayor across from her, who was making silly faces at Chloe—who also attempted to ignore him, but she eventually caved and cracked up.
“I’m fine, Dad,” she said laughing.
He nodded, satisfied.
After a few minutes of perusing the snack table behind them, Annie Marie, Kim, and Nathan joined them at the table, their plates piled with fruits and pastries. Kim sat on Chloe’s other side, while Nathan and Ann Marie sat on either side of the mayor.
“So, Kimberly,” the mayor said, hands folded on the table, “how do you like being the head of the committee this year?”
“Oh!” Kim said, hastily putting down a blueberry scone that Amber had a sneaking suspicion was one of Jack Terrence’s. “It’s been great, even though I wish I’d come into the position under better circumstances.”
“Speaking of, and not to step on toes or anything,” the mayor said, “but what do you think of creating a memorial for Melanie at Balinese Park? We could unveil it during the Here and Meow. The park is in need of a revamped rose garden—do you think she would have liked to have one named after her?”
Kim leaned forward at the same time Amber did, to better see around Chloe between them, and they grinned at each other, nodding in unison. Kim turned her attention back to the mayor. “She would have been delighted. What a lovely idea.”
The mayor nodded. “I’ll get started on that right away.”
Kim’s chair creaked slightly as she bent over to grab her bag. She pulled out a file folder and plucked a few papers out of it, then deposited the bag back onto the floor. “So far, we’re right on schedule for the Here and Meow preparations, with the exception of the centerpieces needed for the Hair Ball. We’re working on getting those, but otherwise, everything should be ready in two weeks for the gala. I also just finalized the list for all the businesses selected for the Best of Edgehill competition.”
Kim took the topmost sheet and passed the rest to her left toward Chloe. After Amber took hers, she slid the remainder of the stack across the table to Nathan. Once everyone had one, Kim said, “Eighty percent of the tickets for the gala have already sold.”
The gala had been the mayor’s brainchild—and one he’d used as part of his campaign to win his election. The idea had been popular with prospective voters and with the Here and Meow Committee alike. The first gala had been held that following March and was a roaring success. It was already proving to be even more popular in its second year.
Everyone who purchased a ticket to the elegant evening got a fun night of dancing and food, but they also were purchasing the chance to vote for which businesses in town would be given the “Best of” designation during the three-day Here and Meow Festival.
There were twelve categories this year, up from last year’s eight: coffee, treats, pizza, comfort food, healthy eats, clothing, home decor, weekend hangout spot, entertainment, nightlife, hotel, and leisure. Over the course of the last few months, the committee—with votes submitted by Edgehill residents thanks to ads placed in the Edgehill Gazette—had narrowed the list down to two or three per category. At the gala, each business was encouraged to attend and present their best offerings. Those in attendance voted on their favorites, and each of those businesses received a “Best of Edgehill” label and several perks.
One such perk was having a Scavenger Hunt Bingo square. During the festival, a scavenger hunt was held, and each participant was given a Bingo-like card with twelve squares on it. Every visit to one of the “Best of” shops earned the attendee a stamp. A card with all twelve stamps was then turned in at a designated location, and the attendee received a commemorative pin. The design of the pin would change every year; the artists who got to design the swag and the Here and Meow logo were also chosen during the gala. The pin from last year had already become a collector’s item.
Aside from the added foot traffic that came from attendees attempting to complete their cards, each “Best of” shop was to create a featured item that would be offered for free to any attendee who spent at least ten dollars in the shop in question. The Here and Meow provided a huge uptick in business for Edgehill in general, but the “Best of” designation was so lucrative, a few of the chosen businesses last year had made almost as much in three days as they had all year.
Attending the gala was not only a fun experience for the wealthier residents of Edgehill, but it was also an opportunity to give businesses a boost they otherwise wouldn’t have had. Last year, the candy shop Lollicat, owned by Olivia Dawson, had been named “Best of” in the treats category and had done so well during the festival, the business was now opening franchises in three other cities in the country—and Olivia’s online store was so popular, it wasn’t rare for her shop to sell out completely around major holidays.
Amber noted that Jack Terrence’s shop, Purrcolate, was on the list not once, but twice—the only business to be up for the prize in two categories. He was in competition with both the hateful Paulette Newsom of Clawsome Coffee for the coffee category, as well as Betty Harris of Purrfectly Scrumptious for the treats category. As much as she’d hoped to avoid Jack—say, for all of time—she knew she would have to see him in a couple weeks at the gala at the very least, but likely much sooner. Her traitorous heart hoped he won the coffee category, not only because Paulette was terrible, but because she truly wished to see his business do well.
She was torn about the treats category, because as much as she adored his scones and had a feeling that getting the “Best of” label would be the kick in the keister he needed to convince him to take his pastry business to the next level, Amber absolutely adored Betty and Purrfectly Scrumptious. People already traveled far and wide to Betty’s shop for her sinfully delicious cupcakes, regardless of the time of year, but Amber would love to see the woman get all the recognition she deserved.
Contestants for “Best of Edgehill” Competition
Coffee: Purrcolate, Clawsome Coffee, and Coffee Cat
Treats: Purrcolate vs. Purrfectly Scrumptious
Pizza: Patch’s Pizza vs. Cateroni’s Corner
Comfort food: Catty Melt vs. Mews and Brews
Healthy eats: The Milk Bowl vs. Holly’s Harvest
Clothing: Angora Threads vs. Shabby Tabby
Home decor: Pawterry House vs. Hiss and Hers
Weekend hangout: Point and Pounce vs. Purrfect Pitch
Entertainment: Tell Me a Tail vs. Feline Groovy
Nightlife: The Applaws vs. Just Kitten Comedy Club
Hotel: The Manx vs. Tropical Purradise
Leisure: Feline Fine Day Spa vs. Claws and Paws
Emceed by: Henry and Danielle of 98.9 K-Mew
While Amber looked over the impressive arr
ay of participants this year, she couldn’t help but notice that Chloe beside her was more focused on the phone in her lap than she was on the sheet of paper on the table. Amber couldn’t tell what the girl was looking at, but if she had to guess, she would have said she was messaging someone. It looked more like a series of texts than anything, but even that didn’t seem quite right.
Chloe looked up suddenly and caught Amber’s gaze. The girl flushed, muttered an apology, and powered off her phone, which she tucked under her thigh.
Flicking a look toward the mayor, Amber saw that he was eyeing his daughter, his brows pulled together. Amber couldn’t tell if the look was one of annoyance or concern, but she supposed most parents of teenagers looked at their children that way most of the time. His gaze slid to Amber and he offered a slight shrug of one shoulder, as if to say, “What can you do?” and returned his attention to Kim who was still chattering away.
Amber knew that Chloe, in her senior year of high school, was gunning to be valedictorian, participated in a handful of school clubs, and was in the running to be Miss Here and Meow. And, of course, she was Ann Marie’s assistant for volunteer services for the festival. She was also turning eighteen in a month and there was a rumor that she’d already started getting college acceptance letters. The girl had a lot on her plate and she was on the precipice of her first major life change—Amber figured both father and daughter were a ball of nerves for different reasons.
After another twenty minutes or so, while the mayor was in the middle of asking Kim something, someone cleared her throat from the hallway behind Amber. “Excuse me, Mr. Deidrick?”
Frank slammed a hand on the table. “What did I tell you about interrupting my meetings, Ingrid?”
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